


good reasons to stay

by WhiteJackal



Category: Bonanza
Genre: Brother Feels, Brotherhood, Brotherly Love, Cartwright Brothers, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, and all my feels about them, bonanza bros, full of adam angst ngl, in which i ramble about the cartwright family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 15:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10166591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteJackal/pseuds/WhiteJackal
Summary: cartwrights are complicated men by nature, and their reasons for their ranching and relationships are convoluted.OR, why the ponderosa and why each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "why" is an awfully important question.

**A D A M   C A R T W R I G H T**  

Sometimes I wonder who I might have been had a number of unforeseeable circumstances not occurred. I think of the childhood I might have had in Boston with my mother and father and grandfather and all those other folks who inhabited Pa’s memories. I think of that boy with black hair and blacker eyes clutching his empty stomach in the back of an empty buggy, rolling into yet another dusty, unwelcoming town after losing yet another piece of land after yet another flood or drought led to bankruptcy. He could have been happy and carefree and innocent in Boston.

But I wasn’t raised in Boston. I don’t even remember the Boston of my birth. All I have is the Boston of now: the Boston bustling with carriages and people and talks of war with the South. My classmates know nothing of that old world, and I’m not the sort of man to pester their parents, most of whom my peers rarely see, with questions of the world that was: the world my father despised enough to leave.

It must have been something dreadful to behold for Pa to head West. Boston must have scarred him enough to send him from the eastern shores with nothing but a couple hundred dollars, an old buggy, and a screaming, skinny infant. Pa says “It” was worth the move, was worth all the hardships we endured along the way to our final destination in Nevada: to what became the Ponderosa Ranch. But on the night Ingrid died on that rough trail while I held Hoss to my chest, weeping silently though I wanted to scream; on the thousandth morning I woke with a growling stomach, sneaking my growing brother and horse the remnants of what I needed to survive, not _thrive_ ; on the afternoon we buried Marie, unknowingly saying farewell to any semblance of normalcy and life she created with those wild eyes and vibrant laughs; on all those days I had to don the mantle of _man_ when I should have only been _boy_? Those were the hours and minutes and seconds I couldn’t understand what the “It” was and how “It” could be worth _anything_.

_That’s_ why I left, Pa. That’s why I went to college and studied architecture, even though I’ll never need that here. That’s why I’m so quiet and serious and stern when I should be laughing and courting and playing. And that’s why I’m still in Boston, though I’m sitting beside you at supper and sleeping in the room down the hall from yours.

**H O S S   C A R T W R I G H T**

Can you hear it, Adam? Can you hear everythin’ around you? All them birds singin’ in the trees, all them animals prancin’ about in the meadows… And our little brother laughin’? What about _me_ laughin’? Can you hear that? I bet you can, Adam. You’ve always been smarter than me. So full of book-learnin’ and big ideas and foolproof plans.

But I bet I know what you _ain’t_ hearin’, what you ain’t never heard: you ain’t never heard me checkin’ up on you durin’ storms ‘cause I know you’re scared of ‘em; you ain’t never heard me askin’ Doc to take a sneaky look at you in town durin’ winter when you’re all nervous-like about the cattle and house and all that; you ain’t never heard me tellin’ Little Joe to quit pesterin’ you after _you_ heard me tellin’ _him_ you didn’t mean all them cruel things you sometimes say to him.

And you ain’t never heard me hearin’ _you_ , Adam.

You hid me from Ma dyin’, but I heard you cryin’ into my back. You kept me from feelin’ so lonely and stupid at school, but I heard you stayin’ up late studyin’ your own lessons ‘cause you spent all the daylight teachin’ me mine, even though you always said you was done ‘cause I wouldn’t let you help me ‘til you was finished. You shielded me and Little Joe from all that pain Pa caused us by leavin’ after Marie died, but I saw that too-short letter of explanation from him you crumbled up with tears in your eyes.

You’re the fellow that sees everythin’ on the Ponderosa. You’re the man we all count on to manage the business side of things. You’re the one who keeps the hands in line, and you’re the mastermind behind most of the big endeavors you and Pa’s always startin’ out on.

But I’m the fellow who sees you don’t want all this, Older Brother. I’m the big ol' mule who hears the regret in your sighs, who recognizes that far-off look you get when you read them books or talk about them cities and buildings you wanna see.

You stay for _us_ , Brother, and Joe and I know it. But what you don’t know’s this: _I stay for you_ , too, Adam. Because even though I belong out here in the West, where I really belong is beside Joe and Pa and you— _‘specially_ you ‘cause you need someone to hear and see and know you, too.

 

**J O S E P H   C A R T W R I G H T**  

I know I smile and joke and laugh a lot. I love the horses kicking in the corrals, and the cattle hollering behind me and Cooch, and the hands’ bawdy jests while they bicker over the tiny mirror in the bunkhouse. And, dear Lord, how I love the Ponderosa. I love the stillness by the lake where we buried Mama, where she picked out my spot for my future house personally. I like imagining her taking me down there and holding my hand and pointing out the banks and hills with the prettiest flowers and best views, all the spots she thought I ought to build my ranch house one day.

But it wasn’t her showing me the land and telling me about the pretty pictures in her head for my life and future. It wasn’t Pa or Adam either. It was you, Hoss. I’ve got the most memories of you, of riding around on your big shoulders ( _I was always a little thing compared to you, but I don’t really think you were ever a ‘little thing’_ ) and hearing your booming laugh. You’d crawl into my bed most nights because you knew I was too scared of the dark to make my way down the hall to yours, and you’d point at the stars out my window on the clear nights, and we’d make up names for them because Adam’s constellations were too boring for me.

Truth be told, I’d have been awful lonely if it weren’t for you, Hoss—we all would have been. We’d have drowned in Ponderosa memories, and I would have been so alone. Pa missed Mama so much after she died, and there were times he looked at me like I was supposed to be her or something. I know he couldn’t half look at me after she died, before and after he left us for that spell. I know he saw her in my eyes and hair and smile: in every part of me that looked nothing like him and everything like her. I know Adam was grieving, too, even though he had to pretend he wasn’t for our sakes, and I know that’s why he gets so impatient and rough with me.

But you’ve never been harsh or stern with me, except when I was picking at Adam and only when I deserved it. You take care of everybody; you’ve always taken care of me. You made me feel important, and you didn’t shy away when I was the face of grief or the unwanted burden. You just wrapped me up in your bear-heart that’s always got room for somebody or something in need. That’s why you belong out here, Big Brother: you wouldn’t fit anywhere else.

**Author's Note:**

> so i love "bonanza," and i love the cartwrights. always have, always will. and this is my rambling about them and my feelings regarding their relationships. 
> 
> NOTE: the 'ben cartwright leaving' bit that you see nuanced/talked about in this piece is a personal hc of mine that happened right after marie (joe's mother) died. ben left the ponderosa for a few months, dealing with his grief and leaving a still-young adam in charge of the ranch and his brothers. if you think it's a little ooc for ben, that's fine! it's just my personal hc given ben's proclivity towards leaving places/people when his first two wives died.


End file.
